


I'm the protagonist, of course I can have two!

by Snowstream



Category: Hyperdimension Neptunia
Genre: Also fluff, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angry Heart, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Anxiety Attacks, Bad Parents, Blanc has a horrible family, F/F, Family Issues, Lonely Heart, Multi, Neptune is best Heart, Noire has a superiority complex, OT3, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Top Nep, a mile wide, also, because I am a massive Neppy fanboy, girl needs to chill, it's like, totally crazy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:35:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9779549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowstream/pseuds/Snowstream
Summary: Neptune has two Soulmarks, one Black, one whiteBlanc grew up surrounded by false smiles and forced politeness, and all she wants is to be left alone, and to be herself. Some days she hates her soulmate for being so happy, envies her unrestrained good cheer and freedom to feel.Other days, she touches the small purple Mark on her ankle, just to hear her voice, and she can't stop herself from longing for that genuine concern she hears in her voice.Noire always knew she was the best. Even if some others wouldn't admit it, she was the best. And if you were perfect, you didn't need anyone else. That's what she's always told herself, and she was determined to cling to that mindset, Right up until some ditzy troublemaker interfered in her Personal feud with Blanc. Of course, she's expected that eventually someone would get between her and that rude shut-in.What she didn't expect was for the lavender-haired Idiot to speak the words she heard every time she touched her soulmark.





	1. White Princess in a Golden Cage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Majinie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Majinie/gifts).



> Valentine's day is upon us, and, as one of the poor suckers who get to be lonely today, I turned to my imagination to provide the necessary romance my heart desires. And because I like sharing, (and I want attention) I'm gonna let you all be there as I try to rectify the glaring lack of soulmate AUs in the Neptunia Fandom. This one's a bit angsty, but rest assured, I am a fan of happy endings.

_ “Yikes, that was nasty. You okay?”  _

Two sentences. Six words. In the darkness of her room, it’s Blanc’s entire world. 

_ “You okay?” _

The genuine concern in those words is so strange to her, almost alien in it’s simplicity. 

_ “You okay?” _

Once more she touches the curved line of radiant purple on her right ankle, and hears the first words her soulmate will say to her, like she has done a dozen times today. Like she has done hundreds of times since the mark appeared 2 years ago. 

_ “Yikes, that was nasty. You okay?” _

She has fantasized about that voice, about those words. About how it would come to pass that her soulmate would speak them. Maybe she would live through some terrible danger with her. Maybe she would save her from a monster. 

_ Maybe she’ll save me from my family. _

Blanc has always had a powerful imagination, and ever since she realized that her home was a cage, she has fantasized about being rescued from it. About a charming prince coming to her, taking her away from her father, who only cares about the fame he gets from raising a Candidate. From her mother, who reveres protocol and politeness and has forgotten about the people behind the masks. Someone who will come and genuinely love her, like it is described in the books Financier lets her read. 

When she was 10, those stories she told herself changed focus. The prince became a princess, who would save Blanc from some great monster, or stand beside her against terrible danger, and afterwards she would turn around with a carefree grin on her lips and speak those six magic words. The princess doesn’t have a face. Blanc has tried imagining what her soulmate will look like, but she just can’t. No matter how hard she tries, she cannot picture a face that will fit the person who will speak these genuine words of care and cameraderie to her one day. She has no face, but she does have a voice. 

_ “Yikes, that was nasty. You okay?” _

She heard the voice for the first time in a dream, when she was ten years old. She heard them after spending two full days being uncharacteristically happy, bouncy, full of energy. She hopped around her room, she stole pudding from the kitchen and ran through the halls, she mocked her mother when she chastised her for it. Even when she was locked in her room as punishment, she did not lay down to read, as was her preferred method of spending her precious time alone, instead opting to play video games on the console Vert had given her for her birthday (one of the few presents she truly valued, because it was given with nothing but the recipient’s happiness in mind). When she awoke the next day, she was her usual grumpy, lonely and disillusioned self. It had taken her a few days to notice the curved line of purple skin that drew itself up around her ankle, but the moment she had touched it, and heard the voice again, she knew what it had all meant. 

_ I have a soulmate. Someone, who will one day mean the world to me. Someone who will love me, wholly and truly. Someone who is happy, and carefree, and loves to run and play games and eat pudding. Someone who is free. _

Sometimes, Blanc envies her soulmate. Sometimes she hates her for being free, for being happy, for being able to express herself so easily and fearing no repercussions for it. 

But every evening she still touches the mark, and hears her voice, and tries to imagine what she might be like.  


By the time she is 15 she covers the Soulmark up with a silk band, because she doesn’t want to talk about it. At least not to people who only ask about it because they hope to use it against her, to gain information that can be sold, or otherwise used to profit. She is young, but she has had to grow up fast in the world of the wealthy, a world of parties and dinners and false smiles. She has learned to smile, and nod, and never give anything away, and her father is  _ so proud of her. _ She always has to keep from retching when he says that, because she knows it isn’t true. Not in the way he says it. He is only proud of being responsible for a girl who will one day grow up to defend humanity. That is all he sees in her. Just his Candidate. 

She covers up the mark, but sometimes, when no one's looking, she reaches down and touches it, just to hear the voice, and imagine what it would feel like to be genuinely loved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter one, and Angry Heart isn't in a good place. Next chapter will introduce the next girl, and you'll all be left wondering how I'm going to torture them this time. And after that, maybe I'll actually start on the plot of this trainwreck. See ya there.   
> Snowy, signing off.


	2. Black Princess in Chains of Pride

Noire knows she is the best. It’s what she's destined to be after all. She is a Candidate, a semi-divine being born to human parents, who will one day ascend to become a CPU and join the endless war to protect the human world from the Beyond. 

Her father would often tell her about the night that she appeared in their bedroom, a Bundle of light and energy, and how he swore that his daughter would become the greatest CPU ever. 

Noire knows she is the best, because her father has dedicated his life to preparing her for her ascension, so that when the time comes, she will carry out her Duty perfectly. 

Like she does everything else. 

Noire is destined to be perfect, and if you're perfect you don't need anyone else. 

That is why, when Noire was 12 years old and she discovered her Soulmark, after a full day of being lazy, cocky and just overall unprofessional, she didn't know what to do. She knew of the phenomenon, of course. It was common knowledge after all, that about 37% of the human population would develop a bond with a soulmate sometime between their fifth and thirtieth Birthday. She knew that even Candidates had been known to develop those bonds on occasion. 

But she had always assumed that it was something that only happened to others. So she decided that it didn't concern her and she was better off focussing on her studies and her Training.  Since then she has hidden the mark from everyone else, and pretends it doesn't exist. But sometimes she wonders why she would need a soulmate. After all, she is going to be perfect. 

_ After all, that's what dad tells me. That I’m going to be perfect. So I won't need anyone else, right? _

Noire is 15 years old, and when she decides that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have a soulmate. After all, they will be perfect, just like her. She doesn’t  _ need _ anyone by her side, but someone perfect like her would be acceptable.

_ It couldn’t hurt just to know what they sound like. It’s been so long since I heard it, and I can’t really remember it. Just out of curiosity, of course. Not because I need anyone or anything.  _

So for the first time in three years she takes off her gloves and does not immediately cover her right wrist with another piece of clothing. for the first time in three years she touches the purple patch of skin in the form of a blade. 

_ “HEY! What do you think you’re doing?!” _

She recoils in shock, drawing her left hand away from her right wrist as if she had touched something hot. 

“WHAT?! What was that? That can’t be right!” 

Slowly, tentatively, she reaches for it again, because that can’t be right. No one, not even her trainers, has ever spoken like that to her. And especially not her soulmate. They wouldn’t be that rude. 

_ “HEY! What do you think you’re doing?!” _

Again the high pitched voice rings through her head, righteous anger, laced with a cocky challenge. Again Noire’s hand recoils in horror. This time there is no mistaking it. The first thing her soulmate will say to her is a challenge and an accusation? She doesn’t understand. 

_ Why would she challenge me? What would she accuse me of? Why does it hurt so much?!  _

She doesn’t understand, doesn’t want to admit, that she feels betrayed by someone she has never met. That she is crying for a friend she never knew she wanted. 

Noire knows she is the best, and she knows she can move on from this, she can go back to not worrying about her soulmate. But now that she has heard her again, she remembers the melding, when, for a day, she felt what her soulmate felt, thought as she thought and acted like her soulmate would have. She remembers all the things she read and heard about soulmates and Soulmarks. How, no matter what you think about it, no matter how you meet or how apparently different you are, in the end, your soulmate will be the person most important to you in the world. How they will always end up perfectly complementing you and be just the person you need.    
And sometimes her mind wanders, breaks the strong discipline she holds herself to, and she can’t help but wonder: If this girl is really so imperfect as she seemed, so sloppy and unprofessional and lazy, then why did she feel so… happy? 

No one sane, at least according to her father’s standards, should voluntarily associate with someone as erratic, annoying and careless as Noire had acted during the melding. Someone like that didn’t deserve any friends.

_ So why didn’t she feel lonely? _

Noire doesn’t want to think:  _ And why do I instead? _

And sometimes, when she is alone in the night, and she wonders if she can really be good enough, if she can really make it alone, she just happens to touch the mark on her wrist. 

Only because she wants to be absolutely sure of her competition, of course. Only because she is interested in the challenge her soulmate represents. 

She isn't interested in the girl herself. Not even a little. 

Noire is the best at everything, except maybe lying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for today, folks. Those who read "Memories" know how much I love cliffhangers.  
> And drawing out your suffering.   
> Ah well, but it shouldn't take that long this time around, so worry not. Things will get better soon.  
> But of course, they have to get worse first.... MUHAHAHAHHAHA


	3. Protagonist in halls of learning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot actually happens as the fated first meeting between soulmates unfolds.

Blanc differs from most other girls her age in another way that has nothing to do with being a demigoddess-in-training. She actually likes going to school. She enjoys the relaxed atmosphere and the casualness of the interaction there.    
At school, she is rude, because she would never get away with cursing or blowing people off in the rigidly controlled atmosphere at home. She is in love with the ability to make people leave her alone, without consequences beyond being stared at and catching the occasional mean remark. She doesn’t mind, she can give as good as she gets after all, and mean her classmates may be, but they are at least willing to show it more-or-less openly.   
After 2 years in this school, most have learned to leave the brunette bookworm alone. Most, but not all.    
  
“Hey, Blanc! Pay attention, sleepyhead!” 

  
Blanc has the displeasure of being seated next to the class’s other Candidate: the oh-so-esteemed Noire Schwarzherz. And the arrogant brat just loves to get on her nerves.    
  
“I was, until you had to open your big mouth again. It’s not my fault you can’t tell bored from sleepy. Now shut up.”    
  
After delivering her entirely appropriate retort, the brunette shifts her narrow-eyed gaze towards the blackboard again, where Mr. Kolfax is currently going through a simple equation that Blanc probably could solve in her sleep if she wants to.    
  
_ I’m so far ahead of this slowpoke that I actually could sleep if I wanted to and it wouldn’t make any difference. Heh.  _   
  
She debates whether or not to read through the math book again for something to do, but decides against it. Not only would that be only marginally less boring than watching the old fart totter around by the blackboard, it's also likely to provoke Noire into making a fuss again, and the amusement value of the other Candidate’s antics is nowhere near enough to counteract all the unwelcome attention it would draw to them. Again.   
  
An aside glance confirms that the twin tailed bimbo is still watching her instead of paying attention herself.    
  
_ Of course, little miss perfect has probably also learned everything the old geezer has announced for this year already.  _   
  
Blanc would probably appreciate her sheer determination and drive, if she weren’t such a meddling, arrogant know-it-all who just can’t keep her nose out of other people’s business.

 

_ Whenever the head it’s attached to isn’t stuck up into the clouds of course. _   
  
“Is there something interesting on my face, or why do you keep staring at me?”    
  
She fights back a smirk at the expression on Noire’s face, who apparently can’t decide whether to be embarrassed or indignant.   
  
“I-I-I…. I am just making sure that you’re not slacking off again. The second I look away you’re gonna pull out some book again, and that’s just not acceptable behaviour!”    
  
_ What is wrong with that girl? Doesn’t she have anything better to do than getting on my nerves? And keeping me from reading.  _   
  
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t make a scene. Again.”    
  
The rest of math class goes by under a sort of weary ceasefire between the two Candidates, with Blanc trying to stave off the boredom as best she can without giving Noire an excuse to start screaming, the holier-than-thou crusader of perfect manners and performance watching for any kind of foul play, and both Candidates pretending to pay attention to the teacher. 

 

_ And that’s the fourth day in a row she’s condemned me to boredom. Seriously, doesn't she GET that I’m not interested in matching her stupid ideal of Candidate-ness or whatever?  _

 

They can’t really do much more than glower at each other during class, but the second they step out the door, Blanc looks at Noire, and very pointedly pulls out her novel, buries her nose in it, and starts walking towards the exit, narrowly dodging two chatting students from another class, who probably deserved some kind of punishment down the line for almost ruining her dramatic gesture.   
  
She makes it maybe five steps out the door before the black-haired Candidate practically explodes. 

"What is wrong with you? You rude, arrogant shut-in! You never pay attention, you insult people at random,  **and you don't even look at me when I'm talking to you!** " 

 

The shrill yelling makes Blanc come to a halt for a moment, watching the other students' reactions in her peripheral vision without raising her head. While Noire and Blanc fighting isn't really anything special anymore, some apparently still find it interesting enough to stand around, trying (and failing) to look like they aren't watching the two girls. 

_ Like animals at the zoo. Like exhibits in a glass cage. As if I was some kind of fascinating exotic beast. Stupid jerks. _

 

Blanc unconsciously clenches her free hand into a fist. Even at school, she could sometimes feel the bars of a cage enclosing her. 

 

"You can't just walk away!" Noire yells.

 

"Watch me.” She answers over her shoulder. “You're not worth my time." 

 

“Well, maybe  **you’re** not worth  **my** time! With your rudeness and your arrogance, you’re a disgrace to the title of Candidate!”

 

The words hit Blanc like a freight train. The book drops from her limp fingers, as her body briefly shuts down at the too familiar words. 

 

"You're a disgrace!" Her mother says in her memories, after an 8-year-old Blanc ran crying from the room during a reception. 

 

"Why won’t you do as you’re told, you failure of a daughter!” admonishes her father when she refuses to listen to the private teacher he has hired for her. 

 

Before she realizes it she's turned around and started walking. 

 

One step, and the remembered voices reach a crescendo in her head. 

 

Two steps, and her rage floods through her body, breaking any remaining restraints.

 

Three steps, and it bursts from her mouth in an agonized scream: "SHUT UUUP! Get off your high horse, you arrogant bitch! You have no idea what you're talking about!" 

 

Four steps, and she leaps at the other Candidate, fists flying. 

 

There is no fifth step, as Noire smoothly evades the angry punches, grabs her attacker's arm, twists at the hip and throws Blanc into the wall with enough force to seriously injure a normal human and put a sizeable dent into the cinderblock wall. Even with her supernatural toughness, the brunette takes a moment to shake off the shock from the unexpected impact, which Noire uses to take a combat stance and taunt her some more. 

"See what I mean? You can't even fight properly. You do know that a CPU needs to fight monsters, right? If you can't even land a hit on me, you won’t survive a minute out there. You really are a failure!"

 

Head still spinning, both from the blow she took and from the torrent of emotions raging through her soul, Blanc prepares to get up again when something completely unexpected unfolds on the sidelines.

 

“Nep-Nep, get back!” 

“Don’t worry, Compa, I got this!”

 

With two decisive steps, a girl that is about Blanc's height interposes herself between the fighting Candidates. She comes to a stop about two meters in front of where Blanc is still slumped against the wall, blocking line of sight between the two combatants and stands protectively over the smaller Candidate.

_ Who the hell does she think she is, barging in like that?! I’ll-  _

Blanc’s silent tirade is interrupted when the newcomer addresses Noire. 

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”

In that instant, all motion ceases. The entire world may as well have stopped existing for Blanc, as all else beside that voice loses focus. 

_ The words are wrong, but that voice… _

 

“Yeah, whatcha looking at me like that for? Why’re you picking on the bookworm so much? Don’t you have any friends to annoy?”

 

As the lilac-haired “Nep-Nep” keeps talking, Blanc can only slump back onto the floor, abandoning her attempts to get up and back into the fight, in favour of just staring at the back of this girl who had the courage to step between two fighting Candidates. 

_ And I still can’t see her face. Heh. But she’s tearing into Noire real good. I like her spirit. _

While Blanc is still contemplating the voice of her saviour, still wrestling with doubt, anticipation and anxiety, the interloper has apparently found a chink in Noire’s armour, and she immediately goes back on the attack. 

 

“Ooohhh that’s it, isn’t it? You don't have any friends, and you are angry that the one with the cool hat doesn’t want to be your friend. And that’s why you’ve been making her life so hard.” 

 

If everyone’s attention wasn’t solidly focussed on her so far, it is now. 

 

Suddenly, Noire simply… deflates. It’s as if the proud wannabe-goddess Blanc knew and loathed was suddenly gone, and in her place she left a girl that had just had her entire existence ripped out from under her. 

 

When she speaks again, the (self-) righteous indignation is gone, replaced by a quiet anger, interlaced with something Blanc has never actually seen Noire express: genuine hurt. 

 

“Sh-shut up. What do you know?”

 

The words are so quiet that Blanc wonders for a moment if she actually heard them. In the same way, she wonders if she just imagined the sudden sharp drawing of breath from the lilac-haired voice, or how she briefly seems to tense up at the words. 

 

When she speaks again it isn’t a challenge, or a taunt. Her voice is warmer, but still not altogether friendly.

 

“Well, I know that you’re being a bit of a hypocrite. I mean, bullying isn’t really appropriate for a Candidate either, isn’t it? We’re supposed to hold together.” 

 

After a few moments of what Blanc assumes to be staring each other down, as she still can’t see her unexpected ally’s face, Noire huffs, turns dramatically and walks off. Blanc thinks she saw something glittering on her cheek just before she turned away. 

_ Whatever. About time she got some for her hypocrisy. Even if I wanted to be the one to give it to her. _

 

Now that the tension is broken and the tunnel vision lifts from her perception, Blanc is suddenly aware of gentle hands brushing bits of plaster from her hair and clothes, and softly examining her neck and the shoulder that hit the wall first. As she turns her head to look at, and possibly chew out the perpetrator, she looks right into a pair of reddish eyes nestled in a cute, round face that is currently showing a concerned frown. 

 

“Now now, missy, don’t move, neck injuries are dangerous. You could make it a lot worse if you’re not careful!” 

 

Blanc shrugs, and winces a bit as her injured shoulder pulls a bit.

“I’m a Candidate. I can handle it. My neck’s a bit stiff, and the shoulder smarts, but I’ve had worse.” 

 

The peach-haired wannabe-doctor doesn’t seem convinced, but once again the voice comes to Blanc’s aid. 

 

“Yeah, Compa, she’ll be alright. Remember how I fell off the roof that one time? This doesn’t look that much worse.”  

 

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Blanc turns her head back around towards the source if the voice, finding her head level with a simple blue dress with a zipper running up the front. As her gaze slowly, almost hesitantly, travels upwards she is sure that her hammering heartbeat is audible throughout the entire school. 

 

And then, finally, after years of trying to imagine the face of her soulmate, there it is, in profile, eyes still warily watching the way Noire left just moments ago. Blanc isn’t quite sure what she expected from her face before, maybe some cool battle scars, maybe a strong chin and eyes full of determination and fire. Instead, with messy pink hair held back by gray d-pad shaped hairclips, round cheeks and a small button nose, she just looks-

_ Cute. Oh gods, she is adorable! _

 

As if sensing the attention, Blanc's presumed soulmate gives a relieved sigh, turns fully toward the overheating Candidate and speaks:

“Yikes, that was nasty. You okay?”

 

Two sentences. Six words. For the second time this day, Blanc’s brain just crashes, this time from the sheer joyful warmth that floods through her at finally hearing them with her own ears. 

Any lingering doubts she might have held onto are burned away by the steady pulsing of the Mark on her ankle.

After what feels like an eternity, but was probably just a few seconds, she realizes that she’s vacantly staring into those gorgeous purple eyes, and that Nep-Nep is looking at her expectantly. Trying to focus through the giddy anticipation, Blanc’s mind races to find an appropriate response.

_ Alright, Blanc, this is it. Your Soulmark quote. Your moment to shine. Don’t fuck it up. What was that one thing Vert said? _

  
_ “ _ Are you sure you fell from a roof and not from heaven?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to FF.net user Danmaku, who edited this mess for me and without whom this wouldn't have come out nearly as wuickly or readably as it has.   
> Respect and Glory are yours, friend.


	4. Purple Hero in Peril

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the fateful (literally) encounter in the hallway, Neptune and Blanc attempt to get to know each other a little better.  
> But their joyful first meeting is cut woefully short, as school authorities have taken notice of the commotion, and breaking walls tends to have unpleasant consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! I'm super excited to finally bring you this chapter of my favourite project.  
> I'm really proud of this one, as it let me play around with the style a bit, though I hope that the POV change isn't too jarring.  
> Warning: Here be Neps. Enjoy at your own peril.

_No way! Two in one!_

“Heh. Hehehehehehe. Of course!”

I try not to laugh. I really, really try not to laugh into her adorably hopeful face.

Honestly.

But _come on,_ that was priceless. Ten years I wonder about that one, and then, when it finally comes, it’s even more hilarious than I could have ever imagined. I mean, that pickup line? Comedy gold, right there!

And the Soulmark on my leg is burning, and it’s wonderful. A steady pulsing of warmth and joy, and that’s just too good a feeling, and the mirth hits me almost physically the mirth strikes me almost physically, dropping me to my cute little butt with loud guffaws that shake my body so hard my knees give out.

Not sure how long I’m laughing. It feels like forever, but I’m pretty sure no more than a minute or so actually passes while I sit there, helpless before the amusement.

I kinda feel bad for the poor Candidate, but now she sits there opposite me, and she looks like she can’t decide if she wants to sink into the ground or punch me in the face. I hope she doesn’t decide to to actually hit me, but I still can’t stop laughing, because her face is even more priceless now!

“Now, that’s very rude, Nep-Nep. You shouldn’t laugh at people when they make you compliments.”

But she’s in luck, because Compa is there, and she’s not amused, standing over me with that stern expression she gets when my fun goes too far.

_Whoops._

I sweatdrop.

_Compa’s scary sometimes._

And she’s right. After what happened just now, it would be a real bummer if I managed to scare my other soulmate off too. So I stifle the last of my chuckles, as well as I can at least.

“Aww, shucks, you’re right Compa. I just came over like a total meany there.”

I manage to pick myself up off the ground which is still covered in dust and plaster, and it hits me that Book-mom’s gonna be really mad at me for ruining the blue dress.

_Whoops again. Ah well, sacrifices have to be made._

Having regained my feet, I take the last step over to my fellow candidate who’s still sitting on the floor and looking up at me like a particularly bad-tempered deer in the headlights, and I just now notice that this girl is really friggin beautiful.

_Holy shit, I really need her to not be angry at me. I wanna see that face every day, forever._

“So, sorry about sounding like an ass. Your face was just too priceless after all that excitement. No hard feelings, please?”

Not the smoothest apology ever, but she seems somewhat mollified, so I forge on ahead, remembering my duty as a protagonist, and the good manners my moms tried to impart on me.

“Oh, we haven’t even introduced ourselves, which is important, even though the readers know who we both are. I’m Neptune, class 10c’s one and only Candidate. Nice to meet you!”

Her facial expression shifts back to bewilderment, and I really have to muster every last scrap of self control to not go back to giggling.

_I am soooo lucky! She is an absolute goldmine of adorable faces. I’ve never seen anyone express so many different things in such a short amount of time._

While I’m distracted admiring that gorgeous face, she’s apparently decided that I’m not actually trying to make fun of her or something, so she takes my hand and pulls herself up.

“Okay then. I’m Blanc, class 10a. Thanks for the assist there.”

_And she’s back to being stonefaced. Cute AND super cool._

“Oh, that was nothing. Scoring a few points against bullying is always a pleasure. Oh, Iffy’s gonna be sooo mad she missed this, especially with the reveal of the pickup line. She’s never quite believed me about that one.”

Blanc’s face remains impassive for a moment, probably trying to catch up to my admittedly rather fast talking, and then lights up a bright shade of crimson.

“Right. So… you really are my soulmate, aren’t you?”

_Whoa… that face… is really, really dangerous. I gotta watch out for heart attacks if I wanna keep her. And I do._

“Ding ding ding, correct answer on the first try! I’d show off my awesome Mark right now, but my socks are kinda in the way, and Iffy keeps telling me that it’s inappropriate to take them off in public.. Aanywayy…”

Seeing Compa looking worriedly down the hall, I turn my Protag-Vision™ down that way and notice a rapidly approaching scene transition, taking the form of an old man in a snazzy grey suit, mostly known to the world as Ganache, headmaster of our school and perpetual pain in my posterior.

_And we’re all standing around in front of a big hole in the wall, and everyone else already ran away. Definitely not good._

“We should probably find a way to explain this. Ganchy doesn’t really like me…”

That’s as far as I get before his cold, calculating gaze sweeps over all of us, assessing the situation, and the Blanc-sized dent in the hallway wall, before finally settling on me, sizing me up with a judgemental glare that I swear is some kind of superpower, because it freezes me on the spot while it seems to be dissecting my soul with his eyes.

I swallow back a panicked yelp.

Times like that make me regret my protagonistic powers of grabbing everyone’s attention.

_Nepu! I bet he’s gonna make me responsible for this. Again._

“Miss Tome. Why did I know I would find you at the scene of yet another great disturbance in my school? My office, now!”

_Called it!_

I let slip a defeated sigh, surrendering to the approaching end of my point-of-view chapter and also the enormous amount of scolding I’m in for from Ganchy and Histoire. Trying to tell him the truth before he calms down isn’t gonna work anyway, as I’ve learned early on.

Blanc looks like she is about to jump after Ganchy and break him in half, but Compa knows him as well as I do by now, and holds our white-clad friend back with an extended arm and a pleading look.

_Thanks Compa. This is gonna be annoying enough with just me being yelled at._

Trusting in the peach-haired future nurse’s awareness, I dramatically extend my hand towards her.

I don’t need to actually look to catch my bag as Compa throws it to me, a practiced routine by now, even though just this once I’m actually innocent.

But there’s one more thing the hero has to do for her distressed damsel before she rides off to face the final boss.

So I walk up to Blanc, who looks after the headmaster with a look that promises murder, and give her a kiss on the cheek before running off after the headmaster.

_Blanny’s skin is sooo soft! I hope she won’t be mad at me for that. Or overheat again._

_Ah, she’ll be fine. Compa’ll take care of her_ . _Now I just need to convince Ganache that the tsundere did it._


	5. Aftermaths and Reactions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dust settles, and two girls are left with very different impressions of their soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo, this took way too long to get out. Blame Financier.  
> And my failed job interview, but hey. I'm back now, and I hope the next chapter won't take as long. See you in the other side.

For the first time in her life, Noire is running away. Not literally, of course, that would be far too undignified, but there is no doubting that, if her pride permitted it, Noire would have run as fast as her booted feet would carry her away from that lilac-haired impostor, that horrible, taunting voice that dared speak the words of her soulmate.  
  
_"What do you think you're doing?!"_  
  
_What does_ she _think she's doing? She's a troublemaker who always breaks things and fights with the teachers, and she wants to lecture_ me _?! What does she know about manners, about behaving properly?!_  
  
"What does she know about being a Candidate?!"  
  
The angry words escape her lips in a snarl, and only when Kei looks at her questioningly, does she realize that she's talking out loud. Crimson flushes her cheeks as she tries to regain her composure under her caretaker's searching gaze.  
  
"W-W-Why are you looking at me like that?"  
  
"Something is troubling you." The white-haired woman states with a calm tone of absolute certainty, as she always does when Noire has problems. Kei's blunt and straightforward approach to problem solving has helped Noire many times in the past, and on any other day, in any other situation, Noire might have considered confiding in her. But this matter is too personal, too undignified, to be trusted to anyone but herself.  
  
"I-it's alright, just something that happened in school."  
  
Rallying all of her impressive self-control, Noire calms her features and shows the outside world, and, most importantly, Kei, her calm, perfect face once more.  
  
"Nothing I can't deal with, of course."  
  
Kei doesn't seem convinced, and Noire internally berates herself for trying to blow off the woman who has been taking care of her upbringing and education for years. Kei Jinguji had never settled for anything less than excellence, and what made her such a brilliant assistant to Brave Schwarzherz also meant she never accepted weakness from the Candidate he had entrusted to her. In body or mind.  
  
So Noire needs to come up with something better.  
  
"There was some trouble with another Candidate at school. She-" Noire had to think for a second how to summarize the confrontation without giving away what really troubled her. "She accused me of behaving improperly. But it didn't escalate any further."  
  
Kei's eyebrow rises at the slight hesitation and then she is silent for a few seconds, apparently mulling over Noire's words and evaluating her truthfulness, before relenting with a nod.  
  
"Fine. I trust you to be able to handle the situation if this other Candidate causes any more trouble." Her tone of voice and the minute expressions on her face make it clear to Noire that Kei thinks Blanc is the Candidate in question, and Noire is glad that she managed to fool the perceptive woman, at least for now.  
  
"Of course I am." She accepts Kei's unspoken challenge with a firm nod, unwilling to admit that she actually feels distressed, and completely out of her depth for the first time in her life.  
  
Not to mention she still can't really figure out what the situation actually is. It goes beyond being angry about being denied her chance to demonstrate the superiority of her way to Blanc.  
  
It's not like she ever wanted a friend, and she _certainly_ isn't angry at the other candidate for not meeting her expectations.  
  
And the newcomer _definitely_ doesn't make her even more sad and angry with her hostile first impression, because that rude, troublemaking, cute, smart and perceptive girl definitely isn't her soulmate.  
  
_She can't be._ Her soulmate would never have attacked Noire like that!  
  
Which is another thing that greatly infuriates the proud candidate.  
  
_Why did I fold so easily there?! I can't let that delinquent beat me!_  
  
She makes a decision, right there, to challenge and defeat the girl, and prove to her that Noire is the best, and that no one is fit to stand against her.  
  
That she doesn't need a soulmate. Or friends.  
  
As they get into the car, she immediately contacts all of her trainers and schedules extra lessons.  
  
_I'll challenge her to- to something! I'll challenge and beat her, and then they'll both know that my way is the best way. A-and I'll know for sure that she's not worthy of being my soulmate! Yeah! Because I don't need one anyway!_  
  
Now Noire has a clear goal in sight, she can feel herself be filled with confidence again. The fires determination that have fueled her since she was old enough to understand her destiny are burning brighter than aver at the challenge. They burn bright enough that she can almost ignore the confusing mix of feelings that fill her mind when she thinks of the purple-eyed girl. Or how her Soulmark is burning on her skin.  


* * *

  
  
In the aftermath of the fight at school, surprisingly little changes for Blanc at first. Her parents scold her, mostly for getting her dress torn up, and also for getting defeated so easily. Thankfully, headmaster Ganache apparently hasn't made her responsible for the damages, and so she doesn't bring it up, stoically weathering the stream of hurtful words that comes at her over her father's mahogany desk.  
  
For what feels like hours she stands in his study, enduring yet another lecture about proper behaviour and pride and all the other things he likes to talk about.  
  
But as the familiar storm of words and disapproval washes over her, Blanc only feels the steady pulsing of her Soulmark on her ankle, and the warmth shelters her soul from the torrent of criticism her father is heaping on her. Her face shows the appropriate mask of supplication as she is banned from the library for a week and she heads straight to her room when he dismisses her.  
  
But that changes as soon as the old wooden door closes behind her, her ever trusty barrier between Blanc and the rest of the world. Her lips twist into a dopey grin as she falls onto her bed and hugs her hat close to her chest in giddy happiness. Her face lights up in a luminous blush as she allows her mind to wander back to her brief but oh so wonderful meeting with her soulmate.  
  
Briefly recovering, she rips off the ribbon on her leg and touches the fingers of her right hand against the purple patch of skin curving up around her right ankle.  
  
_"Yikes, that was nasty. You okay?"_  
  
Getting swept away in the surge of happiness at the words, now forever tied to a wonderful memory, the Candidate lets out a quiet, high-pitched sound that she would never let anyone else hear out of her mouth, and would vehemently deny if anyone ever did.  
  
Blanc squeals in delight.  
  
"She kissed me!"  
  
She screams her delight into the pillows, kicking her legs in the air in an effort to release all the pent-up excitement that's been bubbling inside of her ever since Neptune's hasty departure and the kiss.  
  
_Oh goddesses, the kiss!_  
  
Blanc squeals into her pillow once again, because she still can't believe that she found her soulmate and she feels that her cage has been opened, that there is more to her world now than what her parents want from her.  
  
So absorbed is she in the rush of feelings and fantasies that swirl through her mind that she doesn't notice how the door opens again, and a blonde woman in a red maid's dress stands in the doorway, regarding the girl with a fond smile.  
  
"You seem to be in quite the good mood today, Blanc. I was almost afraid I'd have to bring you cocoa and books later, after all that shouting your father did." Closing the door behind her, Financier steps fully into the room.  
  
"So, what has you so happy?"  
  
Initially shocked by the sudden intrusion, Blanc whirls around, tangling her legs in the sheets in the process and almost falls off the bed, before calming down when she recognizes her visitor.  
  
The kindly housekeeper has been her only friend and confidante for the entire eight years she has been working for the Alba family, and her voice, initially grating to the young Candidate's ears, has long since become a soothing melody that promises understanding and advice.  
  
Trying to calm her still rapidly beating heart, sped up by her Neptune-induced happiness and her panic at being so suddenly addressed, Blanc takes a few deep breaths and, once she is suitably in control of herself, attempts to sit up on her bed. Which does not work, as her legs are still tangled in her blanket, so she just flops around ungracefully for a few seconds before relenting, a blush and a frown chasing each other over her face at hearing Financier's amused chuckle.  
  
_As if this couldn't get any more undignified._  
  
"Let me help you with that."  
  
Blanc's face is currently turned away, but she feels the shifting of the mattress under the added weight as Financier sits down next to her, and feels the warmth of her hands as the woman begins to unwrap Blanc from her white linen prison.  
  
Once the younger brunette is freed, she sits up next to her rescuer, cheeks still flushed a faint crimson. They sit in silence for a few seconds, before Financier resumes her earlier inquiry.  
  
"So, what happened today that you're still so happy after the tongue lashing you just took?"  
  
"I- not much. I just feel good. No reason." Even in the privacy of her own room, with the woman she trusts most in the world, Blanc can't bring herself to talk about it. She turns her head away, partly to hide her own face, and partly so she doesn't have to see the concerned expression in Financier's.  
  
After a few more seconds of awkward silence, Financier renews her inquisition.  
  
"Of course you do. Was it something at school? Good grades maybe? Or did something happen to Noire?"  
  
Blanc's embarrassed smile twists and grows wicked at the memory of the pompous bitch getting verbally mauled.  
  
_Now_ that _I can enjoy talking about._  
  
"Yeah. We fought, and she threw me into the wall. But then Ne- a girl from another class stepped in and gave little miss perfect a verbal bitchslap, and the arrogant princess ran away in shame. Serves her right." Her satisfaction evident in her once more quiet voice, Blanc quickly paraphrases the encounter in the hallway, but she still can't bring herself to talk about Neptune, and finishes up with: "So, as much as it still hurts to be screamed at by _him_ , getting to see the queen bitch cut down to size was absolutely worth it!"  
  
Financier nods in understanding, a mischievous smirk appearing on her lips.  
  
"You're certainly swearing a lot today. She's got you really riled up, huh?"  
  
"Oh, you have no idea. But it's going to get even better now, I'm sure of that." Grinning in anticipation now, Blanc's grip on her silk ankle band, which she's still holding from earlier, tightens.  
  
Too late, Blanc catches the triumphant grin spreading across Financier's visage as her attention is drawn to the ornamental cloth.  
  
The ornamental cloth that usually hides Blanc's Soulmark.  
  
For a brief moment, Blanc dares hope that the woman might spare her the embarrassment, might just leave it at a knowing smirk and a pat on the shoulder, but the rational part of her knows that's not going to happen. Her rational part is almost immediately proven right.  
  
"Oh, so you ran into Pudding Girl then?"  
  
The fierce blush on Blanc's face probably tells her everything she needs to know, but the girl nods once anyway, suddenly not trusting her voice.  
  
Financier's smile lights up even more, and the next thing Blanc is aware of is Financier's arms crushing the life out of her in an excited hug.  
  
"Ohhh, that's wonderful. How did you meet? What happened? Is she everything you ever dreamed of? Is she pretty?"  
  
The excited stream of questions flowing from Financier's mouth passes by Blanc unheard, the Candidate too preoccupied with regaining control of her airflow without having to break anything.  
  
"Stop crushing me!" she manages to get out, and thankfully that gets her older friend's attention, and the pressure lessens.  
  
"Hehe, sorry about that. I'm so happy for you, I got a little carried away." A sheepish look on her face, Financier scoots a few centimetres to the side, giving Blanc some space to collect herself, before resuming her interrogation at a more sedate pace.  
  
"But seriously, this is great news. That's a huge event in your life. Tell me _everything_ !"  
  
Only too happy to return to gushing about her adorable saviour, Blanc once more launches into a retelling of the events from earlier in the day, this time leaving nothing out, and manages to not squee too hard whenever she mentions how amazing Neptune is.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: more Neppy goodness. Feel free to drop me a review, tell me what you liked and disliked, and I'll do my very best to get better.  
> Shoutout again to Danmaku, who has been a constant factor in my improving writing skills, and to everyone who read, reviewed, kudos' d and favourited, here or over on FF.net, you give me life.


	6. Friends and Homes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah boy... This took for-freaking-ever. Between real life being a bitch, my off-again on-again relationship with writing, discovering or re-discovering about a dozen other fandoms and just plain laziness, parts of this chapter have been lying around on my hard drive for nearly a year now.  
> Finally, in a burst of inspiration I managed ot finish it, and after another week of chasing down pre-readers and procrastinatting some more, I finally got to upload.  
> Without further ado, enjoy my (not so) triumphant return to Neptunia Fanfics.
> 
> I should probably put a trigger warning for an anxiety attack here. So, yeah.  
> That's a thing that happens.

The weekend is torture for Blanc. She forgot to get Neptune’s number, so she has to wait for monday to see her soulmate again. To learn more about the girl that faces Noire and Ganache and her parent’s wrath with a grin and a quip. Once more, the Candidate’s creative mind works overtime fantasizing about her soulmate, coming up with ever escalating scenarios for the lavender-haired ball of cuteness and courage to overcome, from mundane things like greeting her every morning with fresh coffee, to such ludícrous scenarios as taking over the world and ruling it with an iron fist and Blanc by her side.

So giddy with excitement is she, that she makes the one mistake that she swore she would never make: she tells Vert about it.

“So you finally found your fabled princess. I’m so proud of you!” The older Candidate crows over video-chat.

“Do tell, how did that happen? I don’t recall hearing about any monster incursions, wars or natural disasters in your area. Are you sure it was the one you were telling me about all these years?”

Blanc already regrets sharing some of her stories with the boob-brained meddler. Shame rising into her face and tinting her cheeks red, she just barely keeps from violently shutting her netbook.

“Shut up, thundertits. I never said any of that!” Of course, as always, Vert is unfazed by the diminutive Candidate’s anger.

“My, what language. You may have never said it, but those little stories of yours were rather obvious. All those tall, well-endowed protagonists meeting their soulmates in the aftermath of a terrible calamity… it wasn’t hard to spot the pattern. Oh, please stop that. You’ll tear your lovely hat.”

Stopping briefly in her attempts to pull her hat down over her head to swallow her whole, Blanc makes a rude gesture in the direction of the screen, before shouting through the thick fabric: “I’ll never tell you anything again! Damn it, Vert, can you take this seriously for once?!”

“Why, what are you talking about? I am taking this seriously. It's not my fault you're too easily embarrassed to hold a conversation. Now, tell me, what actually happened? I have been curious about that for so long.”

Blanc sighs once more, recalling all the other times where the blonde bimbo managed to pry some information or confession from her. She always puts up a fight, but in the end Vert always somehow manages to learn everything. It’s almost as if the older Candidate can see straight into Blanc. Or maybe she just really wants to tell her stories to someone.

No, that can’t be it. That's just ridiculous.

Whatever the reason, she figures it’s pointless to try to fight that stupid, knowing grin. Steeling herself, Blanc pulls off her hat, sets it back into its proper place and shape, and then looks up, dark blue eyes meeting a brighter, and slightly pixely, set.

“Okay, okay. If that’s what it takes to get rid of you, I guess I’ll have to tell you.”

“Well, you could just disconnect the call….”

“SHUT UP! Stop being so smug and let me talk!”

“Alright, I’ll hold myself back for now.” The blonde Candidate's smile widens and she lounges back in her chair, clearly pleased with herself.

“Please, do go on.”

Steeling herself for the mix of embarrassment and excitement she knows will come with reliving the tale once more, Blanc launches into a retelling of friday’s events.

 

* * *

 

“And that is checkmate in three turns. You have bested me yet again, miss Noire. That is all for today, I will take my leave then.”

Noire nods, bows, and bids her strategy and logic teacher goodbye. After escorting Firaxis to the door, she begins the long trek through the empty halls of the estate back towards her own room.

The day’s successes have done something to ease her bruised pride, and Noire feels confident that whatever happens when she faces the girl again, the prodigal Candidate will have the upper hand. The thought of her inevitable victory and vindication has her almost skipping along the halls.

_And Blanc will see that I was right all along, and beg me to teach her my ways! And this Nep-Nep girl, too, will bow down to me and they will join me on my path to become the greatest CPU there ever was!_

_And with enough tutoring and experience they will grow in competence and professionalism and one day they might be worthy of being my … my Frien-_

A pulse from her Soulmark distracts Noire, jarring her out of her daydreams. For a few moments, her footsteps echo through the halls, and then even that fades away, leaving the raven-haired teenager in perfect silence, the sound of her heartbeat suddenly unbearably loud in her ears.

The quiet of the empty house washes against her like a tide, washing away her elation and sucking all the fire out of her again.

With her heart hammering in her chest and a sinking feeling in her stomach, Noire slowly, carefully takes another step forward, at the same time hesitant and desperate to break the silence. As the “clack” of her heels echoes through the halls, it sounds almost painfully loud to her.

Click, click, click

Her legs move jerkily, hesitantly, the echoes of her passage loud like gunshots to her ears.

Clack, clack, clack

She speeds up, the growing din of steps, echoes, her pounding pulse and increasingly laboured breathing both exciting and terrifying her, driving her forwards…

And through it all, her Soulmark burns against her skin, not painful, but an inescapable reminder of what had transpired just a few short days ago. The pulsing heat it emits ever intensifying, drowning out all other sensations. The pulsing waves encompass her entire being, like a heartbeat infinitely more powerful than her own, and before she knows it, her own heart begins to follow the burning pulses, slowing down and becoming less erratic.

As her pulse calms down, her environment slowly comes back into focus. Suddenly, Noire realizes that she is on her bed, huddled under the blankets. Her pillow is wet, as is her face.

She is dimly aware that tears are still flowing from her eyes, but she can’t bring herself to care about something so trivial for now.

“What… what is happening to me? Why… why am I crying?! Why…?”

She looks up, gaze searching her room, but the utilitarian furniture and barren walls hold no answers to her questions.

Her Soulmark still burns, and it cements one thing in her mind:

_This is Neptune's fault. Whatever is happening, it’s all because of her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Fanfiction.net user Atrociouswriter for beta-ing this.


End file.
